


I'd Kill For You (Just Thought You Should Know)

by klloydbanks



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klloydbanks/pseuds/klloydbanks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>R, 1.6k. Ian makes him fucking crazy, that’s the only reasonable explanation he could come up with for why they kept forgetting to lock the door and how they got caught first by Kash, then Mandy, then Fiona, then Linda, then his violent convict neo-nazi father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Kill For You (Just Thought You Should Know)

Mickey had never been careless about anything in his life. Stupid maybe, reckless definitely but never careless. For some fucking reason though whenever Ian’s around Mickey loses his head, can’t help it. Ian’s like black tar heroin and Mickey can’t get the hits fast enough.

Ian makes him fucking crazy, that’s the only reasonable explanation he could come up with for why they kept forgetting to lock the door and how they got caught first by Kash, then Mandy, then Fiona, then Linda, and finally by his violent convict neo-nazi father. Mandy had been bad, she obviously had a big thing for Ian and she hadn’t spoken to either of them for a couple weeks but his dad was by far the worst.  If Ian had just ran like Mickey told him to he wouldn’t get that horrible fucking clench in his stomach every time he looked at the side of Ian’s face and saw the row of stitches from where Mickey’s dad cracked him with a bottle of JB. Of course if Ian _had_ run Mickey probably would’ve been beaten to death so all in all he was probably lucky Gallagher was such a pathetic bleeding heart.

They were at the hospital a total of four hours for Ian’s 12 stitches, a cast for Mickey’s broken hand and two excitingly heavy Oxy prescriptions. The Gallagher kids refused to leave Ian’s side and Mandy only briefly left to pack up a duffle bag full of Mickey’s stuff. It would have been comforting except for the fact that Mickey was desperate to touch Ian, to make sure with his own two hands that he was gonna be alright.

They didn’t get any alone time for hours. First there were the discharge papers, which took for-fucking-ever and then Tony came around to ‘take their statements’. Complete bullshit considering he spent the entire time making pathetic fucking googly eyes at Fiona. That man needed to learn he was never gonna make it with Fi, he was just too safe, too much of a nice guy.

_Gallagher lesson #1: they like their partners’ rough, dangerous and just a little bit fucking crazy._

Once all the worry calmed down, the joints were passed and everyone felt comfortable laughing about the whole thing, Ian and Mickey made their way upstairs. Ever since Sheila relapsed, Frank’s room had been open. The Gallaghers had a few discussions about how the sleeping arrangements would fall, never actually making a decision. Lip didn’t want the vacant room since he’d started spending most nights at Karen’s anyways and Ian didn’t want to take it and leave Lip in with the kids on the not-so-off chance things didn’t work out so the room stayed empty until they got back from the hospital. It wasn’t a big deal, no family meeting or anything stupid like Mickey had been expecting, they just dropped Mickey’s bag and Ian’s stuff in Frank’s old room and that was the end of it.

The night became sort of frantic once they were left alone. Both off kilter and a little bit scared, they latched on to each other with everything they had. It was desperate and intimate in a way they’d never been before. If Mickey were a little gayer he might have said they’d made love. It left him exhausted and relaxed, enough that he was content to shut his eyes and pretend to sleep while Ian puttered around the room getting their things sorted and put away.

It was a while before he felt Ian’s weight settle on the bed again. He sat next to Mickey’s hip, slowly pulling the blanket back to uncover his bare, scarred thigh.

The mark wasn’t huge or anything and Mickey had actually grown fond of the way it looked rough and textured against the rest of his skin. Ian though, he hated it. He felt responsible and no matter how many times Mickey said it wasn’t his fault Kash was a psycho, whenever he saw the scar he would go real quiet and looked somewhere between pissed and upset. Under normal circumstances Mick would do anything to get that look off Ian’s face, up to and including kissing him until he forgot about it but there was something peaceful about the atmosphere in the room and Mickey couldn’t bear to break it.

He was just beginning to drift off; soothed by the steady rhythm of Ian’s breathing when he felt fingers touch his leg. It was light, barely there and he felt the heat of them more than the actual touch, trailing up from his knee to hesitate just underneath the scar. It wasn’t like Ian had never touched it before but when he did they were usually in the middle of sex where it could be obscured and he was easily distracted. This was ugly and violent, out in the open where Mickey couldn’t hide it away anymore to spare him. To everyone else Mickey wore the scar like a badge, a commendation to the way he grew up and the things he’d done; he liked it that way. Only Ian knew what it was all for, what it really meant and that thought terrified Mickey more than he cared to admit.

Ian’s fingers finally broke over the outer line of the scar, reverently moving across the damaged skin like it was precious and he wanted to replace the pain with better memories. He touched it like he was memorizing the dents and plains; it was the same way he kissed, like it was something special and he didn’t want to forget a single part. It made Mickey’s head spin a little but it was good, he felt safe.

A little while later he felt another presence in the room, Lip if he had to guess, probably standing in the doorway trying to make heads or tails of the scene before him. Judging by the way Ian’s movements didn’t falter it was safe to say he hadn’t seen his brother yet but it didn’t take too long for him to announce his presence.

“I thought you guys were just fucking around.” Lip’s voice was loud in the calm of the room and it startled Ian. Mickey thought he’d pull his fingers away as soon as he heard his brother’s voice but instead he pressed his hand flat over the scar, protecting it from prying eyes.

“Could say the same thing about you and Karen.”

“Fair enough. Mickey Milkovich though… you’re serious about this?” Mickey had half a mind to get up and punch Lip in his smartass fucking neck for that remark but chose to keep playing possum when he felt Ian’s long fingers tighten to squeeze his thigh.

“Don’t start Lip, you don’t know him like I do. Besides Mickey’s always been a hell of a lot better to me than Karen ever was to you. You don’t even know a fucking-“ Ian’s voice was rising, he was getting worked up and by the time Lip cut him off Mickey was well on his way to getting hard again. Ian’s protective streak was disturbingly hot.

“Ok, ok. Jesus, sorry. Just… making sure.”  Ian’s fingers eased their grip again, and Mickey rolled over, dropping his arm over Ian’s lap just to break the silent tension and adding a few light snores for believability. “So what, you love him? This a permanent thing?”

“Looks that way.” Mickey would never admit in a thousand years that he’d been holding his breath for Ian’s answer.

“He love you back?” _None of your fucking business,_ Mickey’s mind provided helpfully, _Ian tell him to mind his own shit._

“Not that it’s any of your business but I don’t actually know, he might but he wouldn’t tell me even if he did.” He has a moment to feel annoyed that Ian knows him so well before he feels bad that Ian doesn’t know that…

“What about West Point?” _Yea Ian, what about West Point?_ They hadn’t had a chance to talk about it yet and he didn’t want Ian to go but he didn’t know how to ask him to stay. It was all new territory and he was mostly making it up as he went along.

“Come on man, I don’t ask you shit about the girls you’re with.” He couldn’t help but be a little pissed when Ian avoided the question.

“Well actually yea you do, besides none of the girls I fuck around with have ever moved in.” Technically that’s because Lip practically moved in with Karen but Mickey wasn’t about to say anything.

“Whatever, I’m kind of tired can we just table this discussion for a while?”

“Yea, sure just… do me a favor and make sure he doesn’t, you know, fuck you around.”

“I can handle my own- I’m fine Lip, me and Mick are gonna be fine.” With that, he turned away from the door and lay down next to Mickey, pulling the sheet over them both and shifting over until his chest was pressed against Mickey’s back.

Mickey had to violently fight the urge to pull away until he heard Lip shut the door. Once they were alone it was easy to relax back into Ian’s chest.

Normally Mickey would’ve been panicking about the shit he’d heard, anyone else and he’d have been running for the hills; but Ian was different, he’d always been different. Rather than being his usual shit head self, he decided maybe this time he would choose fight over flight, he’d prove his dad and Lip and even Ian himself wrong.

Ian pressed his lips briefly to the back of Mickey’s neck and he concentrated on the warmth that always came from being the center of Ian’s attention, pushing everything else away and letting himself finally drift off with Ian safe at his back.


End file.
